Carnival of Nightmares
by Amber Krueger
Summary: She's not safe in her dreams and she just might not be safe awake either. WARNINGS: OC/Pennywise, OC/Freddy Krueger, dub!con, non!con, AU, dark!fic, gore, violence, and creepy descriptions beware. NSFW. R/R - feel free to leave your suggestions and ideas for further chapters in your review!
1. Chapter 1: It Begins

That _smell_ \- it was sweet and savory and absolutely mouth-watering. A drop of saliva rolled from his crimson-red lower lip and dribbled along his chin. His cockeyed stare fixated on his prey whilst those once blue eyes melted into a fierce, fear inducing yellow.

Her small, fragile frame lay still beneath the comforter. She was shivering in fear, but not because of him - she was having a nightmare. With each trembling moan that left her mouth, his smile would curl further along the width of his white-painted face. He inhaled deeply, and as if in arousal, a pleasured groan and shudder wracked his tall, lanky body in reaction to the scent that emanated from her.

The girl began to writhe in her sheets, beneath the flaring nostrils of the demonic clown that waited eagerly at the foot of her bed. She let out muffled sounds into her pillow and kicked the covers off to reveal her lithe body clad in a silk nightgown. A string of drool dangled from the clown's protruded bottom lip as he gazed at her, a carnal hunger consuming his patience.

Her fear wasn't enough, though. She must fear _him,_ otherwise she wouldn't taste as delightful as she looked.

 _A malicious laugh echoed throughout the metallic labyrinth of steaming pipes and rickety steel catwalks. She ran as fast as she could, her lungs tired from her desperation to catch her breath as she delved deeper into the seemingly endless maze she had become all too familiar with in such a short period of time._

 _No matter where she turned, he was right there - he always knew where she was - she couldn't escape._

" _You can run little piggie, but you can't hide!" The guttural voice that seemed to ebb with amusement shouted as she made a corner and came to a dead end._

" _I'm over the foreplay, let's get to the real fun shall we?" He appeared right behind her. His left hand snaked around her neck and held her in place. His body pressed against the back of hers causing her to scream in pure terror. He was almost as hot as fire - the physical contact was practically unbearable to her - he felt as though he had been cooking in a furnace and smelled that way too. She screamed to the top of her lungs and tried to wriggle away from him, but it was no good. He laughed maniacally and brought his right hand to her cheek. One of his four knife-like fingers gently caressed her jawline and traced along her neck. She whimpered in fear but she couldn't break free of his grasp. A low laugh erupted from the pit of his stomach and she could feel his heated breath wash over the nape of her neck leaving goosebumps in its wake._

" _Now, now, little girl… daddy just wants to have some fun…" He whispered huskily as his bladed forefinger nicked the top button of her nightgown and exposed just a touch of what little cleavage she had._

As she kicked the covers off into a bunched up pile at the foot of her bed, the demon clown set his gaze upon her as she lay spread-eagle atop the bed. There was a curiosity that entranced him as he watched her struggle to move. Something was attacking her, but he couldn't see it. Something was holding her down. He slurped up the drizzling saliva from his lower lip and stared as her buttons began to fly off of her nightgown, exposing her young, pliable form.

"Who's got ya?" He cocked his bulbous head to the side and crept closer so that he was then towering over her like a monster that had come from under the bed. In vague fascination, the clown watched as her nightgown ripped open. It no longer hid the most modest parts of her - the parts she'd only see in the mirror when she got out of the shower or changed her clothes. The parts that she would sometimes explore late in the night, whilst everyone slept, with her inquisitive fingertips beneath the shield of her clothes, beneath the hem of her chaste cotton panties.

He leaned in closer to her and though he could feel his saliva pool at the edge of his lip, he continued until he merely ghosted just above her clammy flesh. She thrashed her head back and forth and would struggle to cry out a sobbing "No!" in her sleep. The clown stared in awe as four indentations appeared along her chest and gently swept about her skin without cutting her. He couldn't see what exactly held her captive, but he knew that it had something to do with what she was dreaming about.

" _Oh yeah…" The finger-knifed perpetrator hissed as he drug his claws along her bare chest without breaking the skin. Her nipples hardened in response to the cold touch of the four blades that slid across her bosom, the skin of her areolas prickling into goosebumps. She shivered in terror as she got a good look at his face that just about pressed against her cheek as he fixated on his knives, fascinated at how her body reacted to his touch._

 _His skin was torn and rotting and scarred from burns. Patches of muscle and tendon were exposed from decay. He smelled like burnt hair and decomposing flesh. His breath was hot and when she caught a whiff of it she gagged. His teeth were stained black and brown, his gums were fetid and bleeding and the smell was nearly unbearable. The immediate thought of festering roadkill on a hot summer day came to mind when he exhaled. He flicked his fore-blade and nicked her flesh just enough to where a thin line of blood began to collect at the surface of her skin._

 _His eyes darted to focus on hers and a throaty cackle left him. His mouth was open wide and his tongue curled to the back of his throat as he laughed and drew another cut adjacent to the first. She jerked in pain and tried to scream but her voice wouldn't work. As hard as she tried in sheer desperation, she could not muster a sound to depart her trembling lips. Even when she forced her eyes shut in an attempt to blind herself from his disfigured appearance it was no use. She could still see him._

" _Aw, little piggy…" He purred lowly in her ear. His lips brushed against her earlobe and his unusually long tongue flicked out like a snake to taste her. "Squeal for Freddy!"_

 _As if his words were what kept her silent from calling for help before, she sucked in a lungful of air and screamed in absolute fear._

Her scream ripped into reality as she sat up in her bed, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Her nightgown was torn open, and she was clad in a cold sweat.


	2. Chapter 2: Excitement

In the midst of the thick darkness that hung like syrupy fog in her bedroom, she took in deep, deescalated breaths once she realized it was all just a nightmare. It wasn't until she noticed that her nightgown had been ripped open just as it had in her dream that she heard a quiet, eerie giggle at the foot of her bed, masked by the blackness that surrounded her.

She froze in position, her head down and eyes still focused on the torn threads of where the buttons on her nightgown used to be attached. Her eyes widened. Was she still dreaming? Was this one of those dreams that she thought she woke up from but actually didn't? Her anxiety prickled about her bare flesh in the form of goosebumps. Every hair on her body stood at attention and that's when she knew she wasn't alone. She could hear the sound of ragged, gurgly breathing at the foot of her bed and an inner turmoil began to tie her stomach in knots. Amidst the silence that followed the peculiarly childish giggle she heard jingling bells move quickly to the other side of the room.

The sound of the bells was indistinguishable as to where they were coming from now. She raised her head and tried at focusing her eyes so that she could allow herself to see in the darkness that encased her. She furrowed her brow and narrowed her gaze as she turned toward the window where not even the faintest of light from the moon or the stars could bleed through her blackout curtains. She swallowed and took a trembling breath before mustering up enough courage to ask "who's there?"

She heard another titillating laugh and a quick jingle move directly behind her. Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. Her entire body felt as though it were covered in pins and needles. She froze and held her breath. She could feel hot air bathing the bare skin of her back - her open nightgown slouching in a wrinkled heap around her elbows. Her body throbbed with anticipation, fear, and adrenalin as she forced herself to slowly turn around.

Her eyes met with a pair of bright blue orbs that were level with her own. She could make out a large shapely head with ragged orange hair like a Chucky doll flared out in tufts. Its forehead was bulbous and caked with white makeup that painted its entire face. She didn't give herself enough time to study the creature's proximate features once she realized that its large head was tilted upright to face her. Its body was crouched on the wall like a distended, twisted, and mangled spider with a humanlike body that had somehow managed to defy gravity and stand on the wall. Fear filled her to the brim. She felt her eyes well up with tears and her throat close defeating her ability to make a single noise. She forgot how to breathe, and all she could hear was the drumming sound of her heart pounding in her ears like Jumanji, growing louder and louder.

The overbearing scent of her fear caused a thick string of drool to ooze from his large bottom lip and dribble onto her pillow. His red-painted lips stretched across his face in a wide, toothy grin.

"Why hello little girl," he slurped his drool back into his mouth. "I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown!" He said and as if he had a chill, he shivered, so that the sound of his bells that adorned his dirty, ruffled cravat punctuated his cheerful introduction.

Before she could even think to respond, she saw his eyes change from blue to a demonic yellow. His smile quickly drooped into a frown and his face began to contort. He opened his mouth to reveal rows of fangs like spikes forming from his now out-growing gums. His mouth began to stretch and peel back from his face, his eyes now just two small slits on either side of what used to resemble something like a human face. He quickly lunged at her like a snake striking at its prey. He pinned her down onto the bed backwards and buried his face into the curve between her neck and shoulder. He inhaled deeply to take in her scent. She whimpered in utter trepidation and closed her eyes. This was it. It was over for her. She was at the mercy of the jaws of the beast that had now captured her like a mouse in a mousetrap.

The feeling of his weight pinning her down and his heated breath washing over her skin woke up a desire deep down inside of her that began to pulsate between her legs. In the process of him dislocating his jaw to accommodate the bite he was preparing to take out of her, he caught a whiff of a new scent that he had not smelled in what seemed to him like an eternity. He paused and inhaled once, twice, three times before his face returned to its previous clownlike state.

"What's this?" He fixated his golden stare upon her face before inhaling her once more like an animal sniffing its food. "You smell of more than fear…" He trailed off while contemplating his next move. His left eye began to move astray before he snapped back to reality and brought his stare back to hers. He smiled wide.

"Does Pennywise…" He purred, lips ghosting just over hers, saliva collecting at the edge of his lip, "... _ex-ci-te_ " he enunciated, "Lucy?" Her name left his lips like a hiss would a snake. His tongue slithered from his mouth and lapped along her jawline.

"So _sweet_ …"


	3. Chapter 3: Loner

Dark brown hair that had been through too many years of flat-ironing framed her almond shaped face. Her hair was stick straight and shoulder-length. She resembled the young punk rock version of Avril Lavigne with the way she dressed and wore her eye makeup.

Lucy Fern Jagger, a 23 year old college dropout with no true ambition and definitely not a 5 year plan. She had a very small apartment at the ass-end of town. Not the greatest part of Derry and not the worst. Her complex was right across the way from the neighborhood which held the infamous house on Neibolt street. It had always intrigued her, but she would never admit that she was too irked by the vibes that came off the house to even bother checking it out. She always played it off as "childish" or "it's just an old, vacant house, it's stupid and there's no point." An eyeroll usually followed her excuses before quickly changing the subject.

In spite of her large attitude, Lucy had a very small frame. She was thin and short - anyone would be surprised if she made it past five feet tall. Even though she was twenty-three, she could still get into the movie theater for the kid's price - especially if she went with her dad and wasn't wearing any makeup. At least she knew by the time she hit fifty she would barely look forty.

Derry was not her first choice in places she'd like to be living in at her age, but it was all she could afford and she wasn't too keen on getting a better job elsewhere while she was miserably comfortable with her low-paying position as a cashier at Center Street Drug Store.

With what little income she earned from the pharmacy, she was able to afford a small one bedroom apartment in the Elm Street Commons apartment complex that's within walking distance of Neibolt street. The complex was very small and income based, but it was perfect for Lucy. She was within walking distance of work, so she didn't have to drive her car, and despite the type of complex she lived in, most of her neighbors were elderly or at least very quiet so she didn't have anything to worry about when it came to the area she lived in.

Lucy hadn't lived in Derry for very long. She moved there with her parents just that year from a rural little country town in Florida, and resorted in getting her own place as soon as she got a job. She didn't have many friends, and generally kept to herself. She was not in any way a people person, to say the least. Sometimes she would wonder how she landed a customer service job when she suffered from a serious case of Resting Bitch Face Syndrome. The people in Derry seemed oblivious, though. Almost as if they were something out of a book - very Stepford-like.

It was finally fall, and Halloween was right around the corner. It was one of Lucy's favorite holidays, and with living in Derry, Maine, she was finally able to experience real fall weather-because only three seasons exist in Florida, warm, hot, and super hot. She loved watching horror movies and reading scary stories on the internet, but she never really did anything special for the holiday except engorge herself with obese amounts of candy - especially the day after when it was all half off along with her employee discount at the drugstore. It was essentially a steal.

Growing up, Lucy dealt with quite a bit of bullying all throughout school. She was different. She was the token goth kid that nobody liked. Not even the losers liked her. She was always a loner. She never fit in anywhere she went, not even in her own family. Her older brother, Kaine, was a successful businessman who moved to New York to work on Wall Street as a stockbroker - and her parents were all-American blue collar workers. Her dad worked for the government as heavy machinery mechanic specializing in military equipment, and her mother was a hair stylist, but worked from home after a car accident left her disabled and unable to stand for long periods of time.

Lucy learned that, despite her social status, being a loner wasn't necessarily a good thing. She learned very quickly that loners were the first type of people to be targeted for any kind of foul play… and the reason behind that was because nobody would really miss a loner… because a loner has no real strings attached to this world.

Lucy was a loner. Lucy was fair game. Lucy was easy prey.


	4. Chapter 4: Memories

Pennywise nudged his knee between her trembling thighs whilst his body weight mercilessly pinned her in place.

"Mm," the otherworldly entity slurped its drool back into its frothing maw. He growled softly and a chuckle erupted from his gullet and spread throughout the room in an echo like a skipping record player, his laughter overlapping itself as its pitch changed from high to low.

Lucy struggled beneath him. She did everything she could to turn her head and avoid looking at his glowing golden eyes. She whimpered and fought back in a desperate attempt to get away. When he moved his knee between her legs she tried to scoot upward to avoid the friction that he silently threatened her with. Her mind swarmed with unhinged thoughts, scenarios, different outcomes of what was going to happen, and most importantly whether or not she would make it out of there alive. She expected the worst, and though she had always thought she'd be prepared for that inevitable moment, to welcome the sweet embrace of death, Lucy was completely and utterly terrified and completely and utterly ill prepared. She learned quickly that she did not want to die. Not like that. Not by the hand of a vicious, twisted, demonic clown with a sick sense of humor and a hunger for human flesh.

With as much strength as she could manage just to muster her voice up from its hiding place deep within the knotted pit of her stomach, Lucy squeaked and pleaded with a single word,

"Please."

Her voice was coated in the thickest of all fears. The terror dripped from her cracked and shaking voice like cooled molasses. Her eyes were red and raw with tears from crying in her nightmare previous to her waking up to find this monster dwelling in the shadows of her bedroom. What had she done that would warrant such punishment?

Her reactions were absolutely delicious. Her scent was so strong that he could literally taste her fear without bothering to bite into her barren flesh. Oh, how he so desperately wanted to taste her perfectly seasoned meat - to feel her tendons stretch and tear against his staggered jaws, to savor the proteins of her fresh, warm blood with his greedy tongue. It had been so long since he had tasted such unadulterated fear through scent alone. It wasn't just the fear that he could taste, however. He could taste her desire and her disgust. She was _repulsed_ over the fact that her body was reacting to him in such a way. It nearly brought bile to rise into her already burning throat. How could her body betray her like that? How could she feel herself throb so wantonly betwixt her thighs when she had never even had the pleasure to experience consensual intimacy with a man to begin with?

She was infuriated, revolted, and terrified. These delicious emotions mixed like milk and honey into the creature's senses. He couldn't help but to allow himself another relishing lick.

"What's _wrong_? You want _more_ , little _Luuucy_?" He taunted her with a malicious expression plastered across his pasty white face. He pressed his groin against the apex of her thighs and a roaring laughter escaped him as she reacted with a twitch of her hips. Lucy wriggled against him, twisting and tugging her arms against his grip on her.

" _Get off of me!_ " She shouted and thrusted her body upwards in attempt to push him off.

Pennywise froze. His grip on her grew tighter. His fiery amber stare fixated on her face and his left eye began to wander. He was just barely touching her cheek with his lips. His saliva rolled down the delicate slope of her cheekbone as he drew his slavering chops to her ear.

"You don't want me? Am I not good enough for you _Lucy_?" His voice was low and even scarier than before. He sounded serious, and that frightened her even more.

"How about now, Lucy?" His voice changed. It was deeper, and it was familiar. She knew that voice from her childhood. Slowly, Lucy turned her head to face the familiar voice that had its body pressed against her and knee wedged between her legs. Pure horror washed over her. She couldn't believe her eyes.

"Forgot about me, didn't ya?" He said with a nasty, drunken look on his face - only it wasn't Pennywise's face anymore - no - it was her old neighbor that used to live in the house behind hers when she was a little girl. His name was Paul and he had shoulder-length, greasy dark hair, bushy eyebrows, reeked of stale beer and cigarettes, and was wearing a flannel patchwork robe that he had always seemed to be wearing regardless of where he was.

"Didn't you miss me touching ya?" He said with a lascivious hiss. Lucy squirmed and wriggled and writhed but it was no use. Despite its appearance being different from the clown, its strength remained inhuman as he continued to hold her down. She could feel his left hand trail along the curved length of her bare body until it reached the hem of her panties. She whined with tears staining her cheeks red as if they left acid in their wake. She began to choke on her own spit as she cried for help through a broken voice.  
Suddenly he was gone. He wasn't on top of her anymore. She could finally move.

She knew that it was all real though because there were still streaks of slimy drool that the hungry entity left behind.


End file.
